


Sessions

by Constance722



Category: Kingdom (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constance722/pseuds/Constance722
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talk therapy for those that don't talk...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sessions

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind as this is my first attempt at this particular fandom. This series will hopefully consist of drabbles that depict various stages of Alvey's therapy. Other characters may appear at some point.

"But are you dealing with it?" 

Alvey Kulina stared across the room, his green eyes studying the man in front of him. Who the hell was this guy? Some entitled rich boy with a fancy degree who didn't know a damn thing about his life.

"Or are you using things to numb the pain--things like alcohol, women, drugs?"

"I'm not a fuckin' junkie."

"I never said you were. I simply asked."

"Don't try to play semantics with me." He smiled as the therapist made a quick note. "That's right doc. I might not have one of your fancy college credentials, but I still know plenty and I know what you think of me."

"Tell me."

"You think I'm a degenerate--think I'm some kind of soulless loser who isn't capable of any genuine feelings. Because I'm a fighter, I'm violent and dangerous, right? That what you think?"

"Let's talk a little about that. Are you violent? Volatile? You've got a history of unsuccessful relationships with women."

"I've never put my hands on a woman." His eyes flashed in anger as his jaw tightened before relaxing and allowing his lips to curl into a sly grin, "unless she asked me too."

"Mr. Kulina, this therapy is court mandated and I can't help but notice you don't seem to be taking it very seriously."

Alvey sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't."

"How about we start with your anger? Why do you think you're so angry?"

"How the fuck do I know?"

"Have you always been this angry? Do you ever remember a time when you didn't experience these feelings? How about as a child?"

"Nah--I was an angry kid."

"Why? With whom?"

"My father...my mother...God...everybody and everything. What good does it do to talk about any of this now? I'm a grown man"

"Why were you angry at your parents?"

Defeat. It was never easy to accept, but not every fight is winnable. If he ever wanted out...ever wanted a signature on that damn piece of paper....

"My Dad left when I was seven...just up and left. No goodbye. No fuck off. Nothing. He just left. Mom took it pretty bad. She started drinking and when that wasn't enough she moved on to bigger and better things. She died when I was 14. OD'd on our living room floor--found her there after school."

The pencil scribbled furiously across the paper. 

Alvey continued. "So at 14 I was a ward of the state and, just in case this is news to you doc, teenage boys aren't high on the adoption wish list."

"So you remained in foster care until you aged out? What about your father? Did you ever reconnect?"

"No. I found out he died about seven years ago through a family friend. Bastard had a stroke--too good a death for him if you ask me."

More writing. "Mr. Kulina. Have you ever considered that your issues may stem..."

"You know doc, I think our hour's up for today isn't it?" He smiled as the man in front of him nodded and dejectedly handed him his appointment card for his next and final session.

"Mr Kulina, if you'd like to continue our sessions after the mandated period, I'm sure we could work something out that could be reasonable with your insurance."

Alvey nodded as he walked from the office. Some people will believe anything.


End file.
